


A Little Appreciation

by xBooxBooxBear



Series: The Jester Series [1]
Category: The Jester (Short Film 2016)
Genre: Blood, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Halloween, Handcuffs, He likes to touch this guy my god, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic, Magic Tricks, Mild Blood, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Touching, creepy jester guy, poor white shirt guy, the mask stays on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xBooxBooxBear/pseuds/xBooxBooxBear
Summary: “Hello?” He called out.The silence answered.He glanced around trying to find who turned on the spotlight. “Is anyone there?”His eyes fell to the audience where he saw the masked man in orange sitting in one of the middle rows. The Jester was sitting eagerly in his seat as he stared at the young man. The brunet gasped, startled by the Jester’s sudden appearance. He said nothing as he stared in terror. The Jester started swinging his cane as he continued to watch him, waiting for him to do something but the boy didn’t know what.
Relationships: The Jester (MakeDo)/White Shirt Guy (MakeDo)
Series: The Jester Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658596
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	A Little Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mr_Teapot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Teapot/gifts).

> Unless you've seen The Jester Horror Short from MakeDo entertainment on YouTube you probably won't know what's going on. I STRONGLY advise you watch it first before reading this fic. It's only 10 minutes but its creepy and very well done.
> 
> Here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLHjyGNmm5U

He groaned and wheezed for air. It hurt to breathe but he had to or else forgo his life. His body throbbing in pain in different areas from the car hitting him: left leg lame, blood dripping down the side of his head and nose from when his head hit the pavement.

He lied on the cold concrete ground, still gasping for air. He cried a little before he slowly twisted his body so he could get up from the impact from the cane to his gut. He attempted to use his hands to push himself off the ground, but he gasped when he found he was handcuffed. He pulled at them, trying to break them apart but they didn’t budge. He turned and tried to get up but squeaked in terror, falling on his back when he found the Jester was crouched before him. The young man cried out and moved away from the masked man in the orange suit. He stared at the Jester with confused brown eyes. He held his handcuffed hands up, silently asking for release. 

The Jester silently stared as he continued to struggle free from the cuffs. The Jester slowly brought a single index finger to his masked smile. After a moment, he crouched closer to the handcuffed man until he was at the man’s side. The young man was trembling in fear, tears cascading down his cheeks. The Jester brought his gloved hand to the boy’s soft short hair and fondled it. He stroked through the short head of hair, trying to calm the terrified man below. The brunet didn’t relax under his gentle gestures and even cringed away. The Jester cupped the back of his head for a moment before trailing down to his shoulder where he pat it; like they were good buddies. The Jester cupped his arm around the boy’s shoulders to help him to his feet, however, he pulled out a blank silver mask and placed it over the young man’s face.

His brown eyes frantic in fear. His panicked breath limited within the confines of the mask. His body trembling viciously from the unknown of the masked man’s intentions. The Jester hooked his cane through the cuffs and forced the young man to his feet. He gripped the shoulder closest to him and once again pat him in a friendly manner. The Jester walked away for a moment before returning with a purple cloak which he draped over the crying hunched form. The Jester showcased the cloaked form to nobody then pulled it off and the young boy vanished into thin air.

The young man had no idea where he was. One minute he was hunched over on the sidewalk in the dead empty part of town with a cloak covering him, the next he was standing in the middle of a dark and abandoned auditorium. He looked around seeing the dust covered seats had become home to spiders and their webs. The ceiling was slightly caved in with old lights slowly swaying by the cables still clinging to them. Debris cluttered the aisles beside the chairs in the audience. He glanced on the stage and found it was nearly caked with layers of dust. The wooden floorboards had rotted long ago. Debris did not clutter the stage as much as it had outwards, but it was still a lot. The curtain behind him ripped with holes as they were held up by a force that wouldn’t allow them release. This theater had seen better days in its youth but now it was old and forgotten.

He glanced down to his hands and found they were still cuffed together. He began to panic again. His breathing still hurt but it was easier to ignore. He noticed it was no longer confined within the mask.

His brown eyes glanced around his surroundings again, staring at the empty audience chairs before a bright light flashed above him, blinding him. He brought his cuffed hands above him, shielding him from the harsh light. 

“Hello?” He called out. 

The silence answered. 

He glanced around trying to find who turned on the spotlight. “Is anyone there?”

His eyes fell to the audience where he saw the masked man in orange sitting in one of the middle rows. The Jester was sitting eagerly in his seat as he stared at the young man. The brunet gasped, startled by the Jester’s sudden appearance. He said nothing as he stared in terror. The Jester started swinging his cane as he continued to watch him, waiting for him to do something but the boy didn’t know what. 

“What...what do you want with me?” The young man asked, terror clear in his voice. 

The masked man did not answer.

“Please let me go.” 

Tears started to spill down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why was this happening to him? What did this creepy masked man want with him? All he wanted to do was go home after a long stressful day at work and enjoy what was left of his Halloween. But no, this man in the orange suit had appeared and ruined his already shitty night. 

He opened his eyes and stared out to the audience but found the Jester still staring at him. 

The young man sniffled. “I just want to go home.”

The Jester slowly leaned forward and brought his index finger to his masked lips. 

That only made the young man cry harder. His shoulders fell and shook. His head bowed, tears sliding onto his black pants. He shook his head and he brought his cuffed hands to his face. 

“Just let me-!” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw he was gone. 

He glanced around the abandoned area, searching for his abductor. His breathing becoming more rapid in panic of begun hurting again. The cries escaping his mouth grew louder. His tears falling faster than rain on a window. 

The Jester appeared beside him. He stood straight; weight shifted to the hands over the cane. The young man gasped and stepped away only to bump into the Jester appearing behind him. The frightened man yelled and tried to escape the other. However, said man stretched his cane and hooked the handcuffs and forced him back into his embrace. 

“Let go!” Begged the frightened man. His breathing picked up. His heart pounding, bruising the inside of his chest. 

The Jester turned him around to face his terrifying grinning mask. His grip tight over his hands. The young man shook in his hold, his head turned to the side; the only thing that could turn away. He kept his gaze to the floor but occasionally flickered up to stare at the masked man. The Jester brought his hand to the man’s cheek and gently caressed it. The young man flinched upon contact. He held still then braved a glance at the other. He tried to peek into the eyes of the one who bore the mask, but the lighting was still too dark. He flinched again when the Jester caressed his cheek; gloved thumb stroking his soft flesh. The gesture itself supposed to be calm and almost romantic-? But its purpose was futile. He felt frozen in the hold of the man in the orange suit. He turned his head away to try to escape from the unwanted caress.

The masked man continued to stroke the brunet’s cheek before his hand joined the other and grasped them together. He brought them up then jiggled the handcuffs. The man looked at them then at the Jester, begging for release with his big eyes.

“Let me go...please.” He begged softly.

The Jester brought a single finger to his chin and turned slightly, as if in thought. After a moment, he slowly turned to face the imprisoned boy, staring at him for a moment then he slowly shook his head.

“I don’t know what you want with me!” The brunet cried in frustration.

The jester slid back a way then stood up straight and held a single finger up. He opened his hands, palms out fingers fidgeting in anticipation. The young man glanced to the Jester’s mask, down to the palms then back up. The masked man closed his hands then reopened them with a handkerchief in his hold. He stepped forward to which the young man in white stepped back. The Jester flicked the handkerchief against his face then tucked his right thumb into a fist and started stuffing it into his hand. His masked face glanced between his trick and to his imprisoned. Once he finished stuffing it, he opened his hand and wiggled his fingers to showcase it was gone.

“I-It’s in your thumb.” The young man murmured. He looked up at the masked man through his lashes.

The Jester huffed. Despite no sound made it was clear he was irritated with the other’s response. He retrieved his knife from the inside of his jacket pocket. 

The bound boy gasped and took a step back; nothing good ever came from that knife. The memory of the card trick came to mind: The Jester was irritated with him and cut his arm and stained the ace of diamonds with his blood, placed the card back into the deck, stuffed it back into his jacket pocket then flicked the brunet’s chest where the bloodied card appeared in his shirt pocket.

He attempted to escape but the Jester retrieved his cane and hooked it with his cuffs and forced him closer once more. He held up both index fingers then brought the knife closer to the man’s face, the dull edge slowly trailing along his jawline then down over his neck and Adam’s apple then followed along his collarbone before he returned the blade to the front of the boy’s face and brought it over to his thumb sliced through the flesh.

The brunet screamed as he watched the Jester cut off his own thumb. The Jester never made a single peep as he sliced his thumb off. The blood dripped and oozed down the white glove tip of it, fell to the floorboards between them with a small blood-fall cascading after it. The boy desperately wanted to escape but the Jester’s hold on him was strong and left him no room to budge.

The Jester showcased his hands again. Wiggling each finger and joint; even his thumb stub, disregarding the blood staining his gloves. He brought his other hand to his thumb and pinched the edge, slowly pulling out the handkerchief covered in blood out of his own flesh. He placed it over his stub, flicked it, then removed the handkerchief and his thumb was miraculously reappeared. The boy gasped and glanced between the thumb and the clown mask. The Jester wiggled his fingers in a “hello” gesture to show his fully functioning thumb.

“What the...fuck” He glanced at the Jester with terrified eyes with a hint of disbelief and confusion.

The Jester placed his hands on his hips, head tilting to the side, mocking the disappointed mother pose. He reached forward to the brunet and placed his gloved finger over his lips. With his other hand he waged his other finger.

“I-I’m sorry.” The brunet quietly whispered. His eyes cast down to the floor like a scolded child.

The man clad in orange cupped his chin and forced him to look at him. He reached up and brushed the brunet’s hair. He tensed but held still. He felt his thumbs run over each strand of hair before it followed the curl behind his ear and traced the shell. He trembled but kept his gaze locked on the floor.

The Jester patted his cheek then stepped back. He turned slowly to the right to stare at something. The brunet followed his gaze and saw an old table with a silver pan placed on top with a spotlight focused above. The Jester looped his cane in his hands and moved forward towards it. He glanced back at the brunet and motioned him to follow. The captive shook his head and stepped back. The Jester hooked his cane to the handcuffs once more and pulled him forward.

He ushered him over to the table. He released him then walked over to the other side of the table. He held his hands out and displayed the items on the table. The Jester opened the silver pan and demonstrated there was nothing inside. The brunet watched as the masked man held open the pan and stretched it towards him. He patted on rim of the pan and stared at him.

The young man hesitated a moment then brought bound hands to the pan and touched the bottom. He glanced up at the mask then cautiously recalled his hands. The Jester brought the lid forward and repeated the gesture again. The brunet knew what he was doing. He was forcing him to check and shoo away all doubt from his mind. Brown eyes flickered back to the mask and slowly recalled his hands once again. He waited for the Jester to continue the trick.

The Jester placed the lid down then reached into his jacket and pulled out a small pumpkin along with his knife. He held the pumpkin over the pan and saw through the top. He removed the lid then flipped it, letting the guts spill into the pan. He placed the pumpkin on the table then leaned forward as if to caress the brunet’s face again but pulled out a small orange candy; like their first encounter. He brought the candy to the pan and untwisted the ends of the candy and dropped it into the pan. He held up his hand and flicked his wrist where the ace of diamonds, still covered in blood from the trick before appeared. The young man gasped and watched it fall into the pan. The Jester continued to stare at him as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a match box. He pulled out a single match then ignited a light. He held the flame in front of his prisoner then allowed it to drop into the pan. The match latched onto the contents below and fed the flame. The Jester placed the lid over the pan. His gloved hands circled above the lid three times before he pinched the top and pulled off the lid. A caw from within the pan and then a giant black raven appeared in the middle of it. It tilted its head sideways a few times then flew out of the pan and shot forward towards the captive.

He yelped, barely dodging out of the way but not without the bird’s beak grazing against his face, leaving a small blooded scrape to add to his addition of injuries. The brunet hissed and brought his hands to his cheek then watched the raven fly around the room. The Jester stared at the brunet a moment before he turned his attention to the raven cawing. He stretched his arm up then made the gun gesture with his fingers. The raven cawed and came to the Jester then landed on his fingers. 

The masked man lowered his arm and pat the top of the bird’s head before he turned his attention back at the other. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the handkerchief from the trick before, still coated in blood. He covered the bird with the fabric, waved his hand over it before he pinched the top and the bird was gone. He turned to the brunet and bowed. 

“That...that was very good.” The brunet said with a slight nod. He stared through his lashes. “Hurt but was uh, good. Yeah.”

The Jester lifted his head then straightened himself up. He slowly strolled around the table until he was in front of the boy. He stilled then reached over to caress the new injury. The young man flinched, wincing as the Jester angered the injury and smudged the blood. The brunet whimpered and closed his eyes. 

When he opened them the Jester was gone. He searched the area but found it was dark like when he first appeared. 

Suddenly a spotlight turned on and illuminated a target board with metal holsters on them. He gasped and stepped back. He turned and started to run towards the stage exit but tripped and fell. He groaned against the hard floor then attempted to push himself off the floor and get back up, but he fell back down. He shifted his body, so he was on his back and saw his ankles were bound together by rope. He bent forward to try and untie his ankles but let out a startled gasp when he saw the Jester crouched in front of him holding his knife. 

The young man stifled a terrified gasp. His brown eyes pleading at the hidden ones. He slowly shook his head. “Please don’t.”

The Jester raised his hand with the blade and cut through the ropes, freeing his ankles. Again, he used his cane to pull him to his feet. His gloved arm brushing along his lower waist then gripped his side while escorting the brunet toward the target board.

However, the boy fought back. He squirmed in the other’s hold, trying to free himself from his capture. The Jester was much stronger than he appeared. He successfully escorted the boy to the target board and positioned him, so he was facing the empty audience. He shook his head frantically.

“Please don’t do this!” 

The Jester ignored him. He grabbed his cuffed hands and held them above his head and locked them into the restraints. The brunet struggled against the bondage, trying to break free. The Jester bent down to strap in his ankles to the other restraints until the boy was fully bound to the target. When he finished, he stood up and stepped away.

Another spotlight lit up as the Jester walked towards the edge of the stage. There was a small table where six daggers stood: their blade reflecting off the light to give them an intimidating appearance.

“No no no stop!”

He kept going. He stood facing the empty audience and bowed to no one. He picked up one of the small blades and slowly turned to face the boy at the other end of the stage.

The young man buckled against the target board to free himself.

The masked man held up the blade and flicked his wrist. It flew out of his hold and landed an inch away from the boy’s left hand.

He cried and looked at the blade nearly touching his pinky. He heard an applause and glanced at the audience but there was no one there. There wasn’t a single audience member. There was nothing but empty chairs collecting dust and yet he heard clapping.

The Jester turned to the empty audience and bowed to the audience ghosts. The applause died as he picked up another blade and flicked his wrist again. This time the blade hit dangerously close to his groin.

He screeched. His breathing picked up and he was panicking as the ghosts applauded and cheered.

“Stop this please!” pleaded the brunet. “I-I don’t know what you want from me!”

The Jester plucked another knife and threw it with no effort. The knife landed over his left shoulder, piercing into his white shirt almost hitting his skin.

“What do you want?! I don’t understand!” He screamed against the applaud. It echoed off the abandoned walls of the theater. “I don’t understand what you want from me!” He started to sob. He looked at the Jester on the other side of the stage. “Please just tell me what you want from me!”

The Jester threw another blade which landed next to his neck. The knife barely grazed his skin.

Another scream escaped his throat. Hot tears cascaded down his cheeks. The salt sinking into his new injury causing pain to pulse. The man squeezed his eyes shut. His cry falling deaf within the applause. 

He shook his head. “I-I’m sorry.” He said almost inaudible. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head and awaited the next knife knowing it will target his windpipe and kill him.

The applause fell silent. The brunet opened his eyes to see the Jester staring at him. His body leaning against the cane holding his weight. He stared at the man, waiting.

The boy said nothing. He stared at the other, chin trembling, his brown eyes searching for something on the masked man.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated his words. He continued to stare at the mask until he was hit with an epiphany. “That’s why you are doing this. Why you are mad at me and hurt me.” He glanced around the abandoned theater. “Why you brought me here.” He returned his gaze to the Jester. “Why you’re doing these tricks. I...I disrespected you with the card trick. I didn’t appreciate your trick.”

The masked man straightened himself up and strode towards the bound man.

“I was tired.” the hostage continued. “I had a long day at work, and I missed my Halloween plans because I had to close. I disrespected you and I didn’t mean to. I was exhausted, and it was late: I just wanted to go home.” He glanced into the eyes of the Jester, or where he thought they’d be. 

The Jester bent down slightly and clapped. The ghost audience joined in the applause. The Jester stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips, as if he were superman or something, his posture and body language were positive and not negative as they’d been.

He walked over to the bound boy with a bounce in his step. He stood in front of the man and pat his head.

“That was what you wanted all along. To be respected for your trick; your Halloween spirit.” The man looked at the other. “I’m sorry.”

The Jester caressed his cheek then gently tapped it twice. He bent down and released his ankles then his hands. However, the boy remained handcuffed. 

He removed his hat and bowed before his captive. He offered his hat to the brunet. The brunet stared at the Jester then dipped his hand into the hat. His fingers connected with something cold and metal. He retrieved his bound hands and opened his palm to find a small key in them. 

His brown eyes returned to the masked man, who plucked the key out of his hand and motioned the boy to lift his hands: so, he did. The jester inserted the key and unlocked the young man from the handcuffs. Instinctively, he cupped and cradled his bruised wrists.

Again, the Jester applauded to the young man. He reached for his hand and once they connected, he escorted the young man to the front of the stage where the ghosts applauded and cheered louder than before. The Jester bowed before them. The young man slowly leaned forward and bowed with him. The empty room growing louder from the ghosts.

The Jester straightened himself out then turned to face the other. He bowed to the brunet then brought his hand to his masked lips and “kissed” it. He looked up at the brunet and somehow the young man knew the man behind the mask was smiling widely at him.

The Jester straightened up and released the boy’s hand. The brunet cupped his wrist and held it to his chest. He watched as the other dipped into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a single red rose and offered it to the boy. The young man stared at the rose then the Jester. He offered a very small smile then slowly reached over and accepted the rose.

Again, the Jester clapped enthusiastically and stood up straight grasping the labels of his suit with both hands: proud of himself. 

The brunet again offered a small yet awkward smile. He held up the rose in silent thanks. He traced the stem in his hands and watched the Jester appear before him. He staggered back a step or two then flickered up at the other. The Jester was only a few inches away from him, staring down at him. He bowed his head, eyes cast down to the rose in his hold. The masked man tucked his index and middle finger under the boy’s chin and forced him to look up. The brunet obliged and glanced back at him.

The Jester slightly curled his thumb in; caressing the side of his chin, then traced his parted bottom lip. He withdrew his touch from the smaller man and reached into his suit and quickly pulled out his knife. The boy gasped and stepped away, but the Jester grabbed his arm and pulled him forward and stabbed his knife into the brunet’s body.

His eyes widened when the blade pierced into his flesh. Blood spilled out of his skin, dripping down his body, staining his once white shirt. Blood also found its way up his throat and dripped down his mouth. Pain flowing through his body. Hot tears fell down his cheeks. He looked up at the Jester with horror filled eyes. 

“W-why?” he whispered; voice straining with agony.

The Jester placed a single finger on his blood-soaked lips then leaned forward and pressed his masked lips against the brunet’s cheek. He slowly pulled away from the smaller male, removing his blade from his flesh. 

The brunet cried out. He clasped his hands over his wound. His hands and the rose stem soaking in his blood. He stared up at the Jester, trying to understand the reasoning behind this. He searched through the eye holes in the mask to see the person behind the mask.

The Jester stepped away and stared at the brunet struggling to stand. He bowed to the ground as the boy collapsed onto the floor; The ghostly audience applauded in the brunet’s ears as he fell. His blood oozed out of his body and stained the old floorboards of the stage. The last thing he saw was the Jester leaning on his cane and watching him bleed to death.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of voices. The owners of the voices were shaking him. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but they sounded frantic. Slowly, his eyelids lifted. His vision was blurry, but he could see it was still dark and there were two guys crouched beside him. 

“Hey! he woke up!” The bigger of the two dressed as a pirate said

“Hey man you really scared us!” The other dressed as some sort of robber spoke. 

The brunet glanced at the two of them; he recognized them from before. They’d ran past him on his way home. He scanned his surroundings. He was back on the corner where the Jester handcuffed him. The thought of the Jester jolted the young man. He jumped with a start and looked around for the clown in the orange suit. 

The brunet looked at the two. “What happened to me?”

“Not sure.” Answered the pirate. “We were just wrapping up our trick or treating and found you lying on the sidewalk.”

The brunet sat up and glanced down at his shirt. There was no blood. He touched it to verify it was real. There was no blood or stab mark. He brought his hand to his face and touched where the raven grazed him. Nothing. It didn’t sting and there was no blood. He touched his upper temple and nose and found that too was gone. His body didn’t hurt at all and he was breathing normally. It was as if he was never hit by the car nor encountered the Jester. 

He turned his attention to the two still staring at him. “Did...did you see anyone else? Did you see a man in a Jester mask and orange suit?”

“Oh yeah we did!” They beamed. “He did a really neat trick! Pulled candy out of thin air-” He held up his pumpkin basket. “-and put it in my basket! He was a cool dude.” Their faces dropped. “Wait, did he do this to you?”

“I...I don’t know” He glanced around. He scanned the area but didn’t find the orange suited jester anywhere. His positioned to get up but stopped when he noticed a couple items beside him. A single orange candy; the one he’d received earlier. The ace of diamonds with his blood stained on it and lastly a single red rose. They were all items the Jester had given him.

The two trick or treaters helped the tired worker up to his feet. They offered to walk him home and he accepted. He didn’t want to be alone and run into the Jester again. He still didn’t understand what happened. It seemed like the car hitting him had been an illusion. So, was the theater also one? But there was the rose he’d given him for his “assistance”. 

He didn’t know but what he did know was he was going home to put this terrifying Halloween night behind him.


End file.
